


Two Sticks

by riventhorn



Category: Frontier Wolf - Rosemary Sutcliff, SUTCLIFF Rosemary - Works
Genre: Angst, Bathing/Washing, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, References to Major Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 11:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riventhorn/pseuds/riventhorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day after Alexios wakes up in Onnum, Hilarion decides to give him a bath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Sticks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vingtieme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vingtieme/gifts).



> Because I apparently can't help myself, I had to squeeze in a bit of Lucius.

Lucius did not harbor desires for men, but he let Hilarion lie in his bed nonetheless, understanding his need to be touched and held. On this night, he stroked his fingers through Hilarion’s hair, soothing and gentle.

“You admire him, don’t you?” Lucius murmured. “For his courage and stubbornness.”

He shifted, drawing Lucius’s arm closer around his chest. “And if I do?” 

“He is the Commander.”

“That has not stopped others.”

Lucius was silent for a while. “And can you guess at his own feelings?”

“I can guess.” Hilarion did not bother to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “After all, he did not choose me to go on the hunt with him when he claimed his wolfskin.”

Lucius had nothing to say to that, but his fingers did not stop their steady rhythm, and Hilarion let his eyes close, imagining for a moment that they belonged to Alexios instead. 

“I will not let him see. I will not put him the awkward position of refusing my affections.”

“You are skilled at hiding the longings of your heart.” Lucius sounded sad, and Hilarion curled away from him a little, anger and resentment lodging like a stone in his throat. What did Lucius expect? Lucius could not give him what he wanted and so he must fall in love with Alexios instead. But Alexios treated him the same as he did all the men, with nothing more than a mild and wary politeness. There was concern, of course, because Alexios felt responsible for him, but that was no different than how he felt about Rufus or Lucius or any of the others. 

It had been unfair to lay the responsibility for his heart’s ache at Lucius’s door. Hilarion could acknowledge that now. Now that Lucius was dead and Cunorix was dead and only he and Alexios were left, like two sticks that had somehow made it through a torrent of whitewater and been spit out into a calm pool. 

Hilarion hesitated in the doorway to Alexios’s chamber. The Commander no longer looked as though he were a hairsbreadth from death. His cheeks held more color and the fever had passed. Yesterday he had eaten the broth with Hilarion’s help, and he had been lucid, no longer muttering and tossing restlessly. 

At the moment, Alexios’s eyes were closed, but Hilarion did not think he was asleep. And indeed, when he stepped over the threshold, Alexios immediately looked up at him, alert. He frowned when he saw the cloth hanging on Hilarion’s arm and the steaming bowl that he carried.

“What is that?”

“Warm water for washing. Forgive me for saying so, but you do not smell particularly sweet.”

Alexios snorted a laugh, relaxing back in the bed. “I suppose I do not. If you just set it down there, I will attempt to clean myself to your satisfaction.”

“Oh, I doubt you could manage,” Hilarion replied airily. “Considering how a simple bowl of broth defeated you, I hate to think what might happen with an entire basin.”

Alexios flushed, mouth turning down at the reminder of his weakness. “Then why did you bother to—”

He stopped as Hilarion sat on the bed and dipped the cloth in the water, wringing it out. “Sit up, sir.”

“You don’t need to do this,” Alexios began, but Hilarion put a hand on his shoulder.

“Let me. Please.”

Alexios nodded after a second and levered himself upright, letting the blanket pool around his waist.

_Taking advantage of an invalid,_ Lucius said disapprovingly in Hilarion’s mind. 

_You know I never fight fairly,_ Hilarion retorted and then dragged the wet cloth down Alexios’s back. 

Alexios shivered a little, but he leaned forward, compliant. 

Hilarion kept carefully away from the dressing covering the wound. But he stretched out Alexios’s sword arm, rubbing the cloth down it, watching the dark hairs flatten and then spring back up. He cradled Alexios’s forearm against his chest as he washed his hand, Alexios’s calloused fingers flexing uncertainly. 

“How do the men get along today?” Alexios asked abruptly, his voice hoarse.

“As well as yesterday. Though they raised many a cup to your health last night and a few have the headaches to prove it.”

He got Alexios to turn round and face him so that he could clean his chest and stomach. Alexios kept his head bent, dark lashes brushing his cheeks when he blinked. 

When Hilarion went to pull away the blanket tangled around his legs, Alexios tensed. 

“Oh, come now, sir,” Hilarion said, his voice light and deliberately mocking. “Do you think me a stranger to men’s cocks? I cannot believe that Kaeso never told you one of the sordid tales he had heard about me.” 

Alexios sucked in a breath and slowly unclenched the hand that gripped the blanket. “It means nothing,” he said sharply. “Only that my flesh does not always pay heed to my mind.”

“How well I know the feeling,” Hilarion murmured. 

He kept his hands brisk and efficient, though, ignoring Alexios’s arousal, because he did not really want to take advantage or cause harm. He wanted to help, to show Alexios that he was capable of deeper emotions than teasing and scorn. 

_And get your hands on his firm thighs,_ Lucius observed dryly.

_Planning on haunting me are you?_ If that was the case, Hilarion could not really mind it. Lucius had been the only one to ever successfully rein in some of Hilarion’s wilder impulses—and the only one to ever care about him as a human being, to see him as a man and not an inconvenience or a joke or simply a fellow soldier whose death would only bring a few seconds of regret.

Alexios slowly relaxed, stretching out and letting Hilarion wash the rest of his body. When he finished, he drew the blanket over Alexios again, tucking it round him, mindful of his shield arm. “The beard will have to wait, I’m afraid,” he said, and Alexios nodded, face half-pressed into the pillow. 

Hilarion hesitated and then put his hand on Alexios’s curly head. Alexios didn’t move nor did he speak. 

Sighing, Hilarion made to stand up, but Alexios reached out to him. “Wait.”

Hilarion sat back down, laying aside the basin and cloth. “Yes, sir?”

“I would…appreciate it if you would stay a while,” Alexios said slowly. He opened his eyes, but stared at the far wall. “When I am alone my mind…wanders. To our journey here and…and all that happened.”

By which he meant the moment when he killed Cunorix.

Well, that was all right. After all, every time he shut his eyes he saw the blood staining Lucius’s mouth as he coughed out his last breath. 

What a pair they were. Both of them denied physical pleasure with the men they had loved—for if Cunorix had ever fucked Alexios, Hilarion had seen no sign of it. The Commander had been too damn tense all the time to be enjoying anyone’s bed. 

But now—perhaps he had a chance now, with _this_ man who had also captured his heart on that day when he jerked his shoulders straight and walked up and down the ranks of the Third Ordo, staring every soldier in the eye.

Very, very carefully, Hilarion laid down next to Alexios and put his arm around him. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Alexios’s bare shoulder where it stuck above the blanket.

Alexios drew in a shaky breath and cupped his hand around Hilarion’s head, drawing him closer, letting Hilarion rest his cheek against his breast, just above his heart. Hilarion listened to it beat, fast but strong, like a new colt finding his legs and racing over the cloud-shadowed hills.


End file.
